


On History and Pie

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Series: On History and Pie [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Falling In Love, M/M, bad bob is still his dad and a hockey legend, bitty is a baker, both are students at samwell, chubby jack, history nerd jack, jack is a history grad student, non athletic jack, non sporty jack, sassy bitty, self doubt, sweet bitty, zimbits au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 08:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9876728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: A nonathletic!Jack fic, where grad student and history nerd, Jack Zimmermann meets the cute Samwell student/baker Eric Bittle at the Bread and Butter Bakery. Will the two make a love connection?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devereauxs_Disease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/gifts), [victorine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine/gifts).



They’d chatted at the bakery enough times that Bitty was able to pull the information from Jack. He’d started coming to the bakery about four weeks ago, and during that time Bitty became more and more charmed with the second year grad student.

He always sat in the corner armchair, ordered a black coffee, two macarons and a slice of whatever the pie of the day was. Bitty first noticed him when he came in to order a slice of Weary Willie cake.

Bitty loved his job at the bakery, it gave him some extra cash while he attended Samwell. Whenever Bitty was there, he was the de facto person in charge. Shirley and Spencer, the owners of Bread and Butter adored Bitty.

“We never had any kids of our own, so you’re the closest thing to it, Bitty,” Shirley said to him one evening over a cup of earl grey tea.

So Bitty stood there, face to face with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen the first time Jack walked in. The Clark Kent glasses in front of them did nothing to hide the fact that they were beautiful. It was a good face, a handsome face. He was burly and tall, and Bitty loved that. He smiled, and Bitty’s body language invited Blue Eyes to speak.

“Can I get a slice of the Weary Willie cake?”

“Sure can, handsome,” Bitty said as he began to ring up Blue Eyes’ order, who blushed furiously. “What else can I do you for?”

“Coffee. Black. Medium, please,” he replied looking down at the counter.

“Why don’t you go find yourself a seat and I’ll bring it out to you,” Bitty said with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” Blue Eyes said softly and then turned to walk toward the corner armchair.

When Bitty approached, Blue Eyes had pulled out a laptop and several textbooks, the one on top of the pile was called _Foundations of Modern European Intellectual History_.

“Doing a little light reading, huh?” Bitty said as he put the cake and coffee on the side table.

“Oh, haha. Yes.”

“Do you go to Samwell?”

“I’m finishing up my masters in history there,” he said as he held up his book.

“That’s great. I haven’t seen you here before,” Bitty said wanting to know more about History Blue Eyes.

“I saw the chalkboard outside listing the Weary Willie cake and the history nerd in me became curious.”

“Look at you! You certainly are a history major.”

“Did you make the cake?” Jack asked raising his eyebrows.

“Sure did. My moomaw had the recipe from her mama.”

“Well, it’s not often I find a somewhat obscure historical reference on my way back to the history building.” Jack’s face lit up and he continued, “You know, Weary Willie cake is named after a type of hobo who used to wander the American countryside. Weary Willies would more accurately be called tramps, because unlike hobos…”

Jack stopped. 

“What’s wrong, sugar?”

“I’ve been told I sometimes ramble about history and most people aren’t interested.”

“Pssh! I don’t think you were rambling. You do you, honey, and don’t let others tell you otherwise. I’m going to finish up a couple things and then come back and you can continue telling me all about those tramps.”

“Jack. My name is Jack,” he said as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Hi.”

“I’m Bitty -- well, Eric, actually. But everyone calls me Bitty.”

Jack gave an awkward smile and then swallowed thickly as he saw Eric -- or rather Bitty -- walk away in his too tight jeans. Jack pulled at his shirt’s collar, and opened up his textbook.

Ever since then, Jack had pretty much become a regular. 

Bitty was no stranger to the advances of others. Some were quite brazen (A LAX bro once said, “Your ass looks fantastic in those shorts. How about I get your number?” Bitty replied dryly, “How about your ass gets itself to Starbucks?") Some were more subtle (“Can I buy you a coffee?” “Um, no thanks, I’m surrounded by it all day.”) 

But none of them mattered to Bitty. All he was interested in was learning more about Jack. Jack who barely spoke but three sentences at a time to Bitty, unless Bitty somehow managed to bring history into the conversation.

“So Franz Ferdinand was inspecting the army in Sarajevo with his wife Sophie, and it was their wedding anniversary -- but the Austrian Emperor Franz Josef had forbidden him to be seen in public with her on other state occasions because she was a commoner.”

“Oh that’s terrible,” Bitty said as he leaned against Jack’s table.

“So that day, June 28, 1914, was also Serbia's National Day --”

“Bitty?” Lardo called from the counter. “There’s a problem with the large mixer.”

“Hold on, Jack,” Bitty said as he put his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

Jack watched as Bitty walked away again, and sighed. 

What was he doing? This was just going to turn out exactly as it had with Ryan. Ryan was Jack’s roommate freshman year. Jack had a huge crush on him, and thought it was reciprocated but how could it have been? Ryan was hot, fit, popular. He had just been using Jack for notes, help with his papers, and possible hockey tickets.

Since then, Jack swore off any sort of dating distraction, any pretty face -- no matter how kind, and funny, and Southern, and _Crisse_! His arms! 

Jack shook his head and slammed his book shut. This wouldn’t go anywhere, and he would just end up with a broken heart and feeling humiliated. _Eye on the prize, Zimmermann. Grad school, then work toward your Ph.D. 110% Zimmermann._

He got up, left a tip on the table, and quietly exited Bread and Butter before Bitty could notice.

**+++**

By the third week of Jack being a no show, Bitty knew something was definitely up. He missed seeing Jack in his chair, talking animatedly about the Battle of Guadalcanal, or whatever interesting topic was making his face light up that day.

“Where’s your friend, Bitty?” Lardo asked as she placed fresh muffins in the bakery case.

“I have no idea. I wish I knew! If I did something that upset or offended him, I’d like to have a chance to apologize.”

“Maybe one of your pies wasn’t up to snuff,” Ransom called out from the kitchen.

“Justin Oluransi! As if!” Bitty called back. “Not up to snuff, indeed! I just… I miss seeing his sweet face sitting over there. His gorgeous, sweet face,” Bitty sighed and draped himself over the counter, “And his hot, bear bod. Oof, I just want to climb him like a tree.”

“Why don’t you tell us how you really feel, Bitty?” Lardo said rolling her eyes.

“He’s so sweet and shy. What happened?” Bitty said as he flung his arms up.

Ransom and Lardo shrugged.

“Why don’t you send him a Facebook message?” Chowder suggested.

“We’re not Facebook friends,” Bitty said quietly.

“You can still send someone a message even if you’re not FB friends,” Chowder said as he filled a coffee filter with grounds.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” Bitty said.

**+++**

Later back at the Haus, Bitty sat in bed with his laptop and looked up Jack on Facebook. The search results showed that Jack didn’t have a personal Facebook, but his name came up because he ran the group page for the class he was a TA in. 

_History Class 412A - Between Resistance and Collaboration: The Second World War in Europe. Due dates, lecture schedules and more posted. Questions? Contact Dr. Atley or Jack Zimmermann._

Jack’s email was listed on the page, so Bitty composed a message.

> **To: jack.zimmermann@samwell.edu  
>  From: erbittle@samwell.edu**
> 
> _Hi, Jack -_
> 
> _Sorry if this seems forward or intrusive. I didn’t know how else to get in touch with you. I was just wondering if you were okay. I haven’t seen you at Bread and Butter lately, and I was worried. And I’ve been missing seeing you there._
> 
> _If I did something to make you angry, I hope you’ll let me know so I can make it up to you. I have it on good authority you like pie._
> 
> _Well, anyway. I hope to talk to you soon._
> 
> _xo_
> 
> _Bitty_

Jack stared at the message, not quite knowing what to say or do. The fact that Bitty actually managed to track down his email was something. But, what did his message mean? What did he want, really? Jack bit his bottom lip, and sat on the message for a couple days.

He walked by the bakery on his way back to his place from class. He was across the street, so he couldn’t be spotted but he saw Bitty inside dancing with two guys: one a tall blonde with glasses, the other he’d seen working at the bakery. The three of them were laughing and pressing up against each other. Lardo -- he thought that was her name -- was sitting on the counter, clapping and laughing.

Jack looked at the the two larger, jock-y guys with Bitty. They were muscular and dressed in a trendy way, they looked like the type of guys Bitty should be with. He sighed and continued walking home.

> **To: erbittle@samwell.edu  
>  From: jack.zimmermann@samwell.edu**
> 
> _Eric,_
> 
> _Thanks for your email. I appreciate you reaching out, but really it’s not necessary. I enjoyed my visits to the bakery, and I have to say thank you for being as nice as you were. I know you’re genuinely a nice person, and were just humoring me, making me feel good about myself. I appreciate it, I really do._
> 
> _I know someone like you could not be interested in someone like me, not really, so in the interest of self-preservation I’ve decided to remove myself from the path of future hurt. I know you’d never do it intentionally but I have to think about my heart. Ha._
> 
> _Thanks again, you were very sweet._
> 
> _JLZ_

When Bitty read the email, he felt sad but then he felt something else. He felt angry. He liked Jack, immensely. He liked how smart he was, his dry sense of humor many didn’t bother picking up on, he liked his eyes, his face, the way his forehead crinkled when he would take a sip of too hot coffee. Bitty liked his entire being. So yes, he felt angry. 

“Well, who does he think he is?! Making a decision about my life on my behalf. Oh no, sir!”

Bitty slammed his laptop shut, grabbed his WWII Ration Cookbook from the bookshelf, and marched straight to the Haus kitchen.

“Not on my watch, Zimmermann!”

**+++**

The following morning, Bitty entered the history building and looked for classroom 325. He peeked in the backdoor window and saw Jack standing at the lectern. He entered the lecture hall quietly, and selected a seat in the back row. 

“The three-month battle is often seen to be the war’s turning point. After Stalingrad the Wehrmacht would make no further advances in the USSR. The mid-November 1942 mobile operation to cut off the city demonstrated for the first time the skill of the rebuilt Red Army,” Jack said with a confidence Bitty had never seen in him before.

“The capitulation of the Sixth Army in the Stalingrad pocket on January 31st was the first major German surrender. Both the German leadership and the population of occupied Europe realized the significance of what had happened: the Third Reich was now on the defensive…”

Jack cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses, and that's when he noticed Bitty sitting in the room. Bitty smiled at him, and Jack suddenly lost all train of thought. Lecture? Poof! The next sentence? Gone!

“So uh… the Third Reich… was…” Jack fumbled through his notes, which normally he never needed. 

When it came to class preparation Jack Zimmermann was king. But at that moment, he was drawing a complete and utter blank, all thanks to that tiny blond baker sitting in the room. Everyone in the class began to look around, wondering what the hell was going on.

Just then, Jack had the wherewithal to say, "We can continue this on Thursday," and ended class a few minutes early. 

As everyone began to pad out of the room, Jack remained planted at the lectern. He saw Bitty approach. He was holding a glass tupperware wrapped in a red dish towel, and was wearing a tight t-shirt which read "I Bake Because I Knead the Dough." And of course, he had poured himself into some very tight skinny jeans.

"Hi, Jack! Or should I say Professor Z?

"Eric, I mean, Bitty. Hello. I'm no… I’m not a professor yet."

They both stared at each other silently, until Jack cleared his throat, "What are you doing here?"

"Sorry! I didn't mean to disrupt your class. I just, I made this for you."

Bitty handed over the dish and Jack pushed his glasses up with one hand, while taking the dish with the other.

"It’s a wartime berry shortbread. I made it historically accurate -- just for you."

Jack felt his face turn red, and nervously blurted out, "Why?"

Bitty smiled, shrugged and replied, "Because I know you would appreciate it." 

Jack stood frozen, holding the dish, until he finally managed to spit out, "Thanks."

"Well, I have to get back to the bakery. Just wanted to stop by and drop this off." 

At that moment, Bitty got on his tippy toes and planted a soft kiss on Jack’s cheek, then winked and said, “See ya, Jack!" 

Jack hadn't moved an inch and stood dumbfounded as Bitty sashayed out of the room like nobody's business.

Once Jack was home, he unwrapped the towel and opened the shortbread. A note was attached to the container, written in a long, flowy script:

>   
>  _Jack,_
> 
> _I don’t take kindly to people telling me how I should feel or act. I had enough of that for one lifetime back home. I like you, Jack. I really like you and I just want to get to know you, without agenda or ulterior motives. I think you are funny and sweet, so smart, and lord, you are so hot -- you have no idea. Now, unless you are ready to call me a liar to my face, believe me that this is what I feel and what I want._
> 
> _Being the gentleman I know you are, I’m sure you’ll be wanting to return my container when you’re done with this cake. I look forward to seeing you when you bring it back. If you come close to closing time, like tomorrow at 7, for instance, well then I guess we can just to go to dinner afterward._
> 
> _xoxoxo_
> 
> _Bitty_

History had always been Jack Zimmermann’s life; his constant companion. His best friends were people who have been dead for years -- centuries even, and out of nowhere came this sassy, outspoken ray of sunshine that hit him like a truck. Bitty wouldn’t lie. He was too kind, too sweet, too wonderful to do that. 

He liked Jack, he _really_ liked Jack. And Jack, well, Jack hadn’t stopped thinking about him since day one. So Jack let himself have this. Convinced himself that it was real and he deserved it. Like his uncle always said, you miss 100% of the shots you didn’t take.

He thought of Bitty’s bright face and felt a comfortable warmth bloom in his chest. He read the note once again, decided to take a shot, and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> For Devereauxsdisease and Victorineb who love this incarnation of Jack as much as I do.
> 
> Come say hi to me over on the [Tumblrererers](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  _Check, Please!_ characters created by the wonderful [Ngozi](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/).


End file.
